The detective, the alderman and the pub

In the 1880s, one private detective was commissioned to spy on local pub landlords. His commission would end in a lengthy prison sentence

Henry Williams was a private detective based in Lambeth, south London, in the 1880s. His story is an example of such men so desperate to get a result in a case that they would resort to underhand methods, even being willing to perjure themselves in court cases. Henry's, however, would prove to be an unusual case.

Henry, a native of Devon, was living and working at 10 North Street, Lambeth, in 1884, when he answered a summons charging him with committing wilful and corrupt perjury in court. He had been commissioned, along with another private detective, in July that year, to work for John Norton at Poole in Dorset. John was a wealthy timber merchant, but also a local alderman. He was a man who disliked the local pubs, and believed that the conduct both of those who ran them, and those who frequented them, was rather immoral. He had therefore brought the detectives over from London to stay at various local inns and make regular reports to him about how business was being carried on. They had both been personally recommended to him. Yet Williams, one of the private detectives he brought in, had only just become a private inquiry agent - this would be his first and last job in the field.

On 28 July 1884, therefore, Williams, a 'perfect stranger' to Poole, arrived in the town and took lodgings at the Crown Hotel, run by Mr Collins - possibly Daniel Collins, formerly a railway signalman, who had only recently taken on the job. Almost immediately, he started filing reports regarding breaches of the Licensing Act by Collins. These included accusations that Superintendent Stephen Hunt of the Dorset police had been drinking late into the night of 28 July, when he was supposed to be on duty. Collins had also, apparently, told Williams to "Come into the back parlour - the superintendent will be back directly to have a hand of cards."

Superintendent Hunt had, apparently, increased his visits to the Crown from 28 July onwards because he was suspicious of Williams, who was staying there. He thought it was his duty to keep his eye on the private detective, as "he considered his conduct suspicious". On the night that Williams reported him to be playing cards, he had actually only had "a small lemon and a drop of whiskey" and had never played cards in his life. Hunt did, however, have to clarify that he had had another "two drops" of alcohol after the initial whiskey.

Williams was viewed with suspicion partly because he had too much money on him, and because he was a stranger. On 4 August, Hunt had joined Williams, who was walking in the direction of Christchurch. He asked Williams what his business in Dorset was, and the Londoner replied, "Well, I am combining a little business with pleasure; I am a detective from Scotland Yard." Hunt scoffed at him, Williams' response increasing the suspicion Hunt felt.

Henry Williams was commissioned to investigate pub life in Poole, pictured here (image by Chris Wood on Geograph)

Meanwhile, Williams continued to make reports to Alderman Norton. He claimed to have seen horse-dealer Sydney Smith and two other men - including the owner of the Crown Inn - enter and be supplied with whiskey out of hours. Collins would later say the only man he had given whiskey to was actually Henry Williams. Williams also said that a day before this, Mrs Collins had let in a woman after midnight and given her a mug of beer, on Mr Collins' orders.

With the evidence that Henry Williams had obtained, a court case was brought against Mr Collins - not brought by Alderman Norton directly, but by the secretary of the local branch of the Licensed Victuallers' Association - one Mr Bennett, who ran a rival pub. In this case, Henry Williams gave evidence against Mr Collins, accusing him of letting people play cards for money, of supplying alcohol during prohibited hours, and with harbouring a police constable - Superintendent Hunt, the chief constable.

After the conclusion of this case, though, things took an unusual turn. Henry Williams was charged with perjury, of having knowingly given false evidence in the case. It was claimed that all his evidence was fake and could be easily explained away, from Stephen Hunt insisting that he had only had a few drops of alcohol, and then only before or after his work shift, to Mr Collins saying the 'mug of beer' he had given the woman late at night was actually a glass of water that she needed for a family member.

What was the truth and what was false? Henry Williams was indicted and stood trial at the Winchester Assizes in the autumn of 1884. There, suspicion of him as a private detective led to him being convicted and given the harsh penalty of seven years in prison. Public sentiment, however, was in his favour. There was a clear suspicion that locals had ganged up against Williams to deny that his evidence was untrue, and, reading between the lines, Alderman Norton was disliked. The fact that he had commissioned a private detective to investigate local pubs because of his own keen sense of morality put him at odds with the society in which he lived. It also emerged that Henry Williams had not told an outright falsehood when he said to Superintendent Hunt that he was a Scotland Yard detective - he had actually been in the Metropolitan Police until recently, retiring from there with a 'first class certificate of character', before setting up as a private detective. Those detectives who were former esteemed police detectives were viewed more positively than others.

The Henry Williams case led to outrage on the part of many. There was concern not only at his conviction, but also at the severity of the sentence. Protests and petitions were started; and, in fact, there were still being protests not only in Dorset but in London, months after his conviction. In August 1885, Alderman Norton was one of the men who voted in favour of asking the Home Secretary for mercy in the case. However, although he agreed with his fellow town councillors that Williams' sentence was too severe, and that they should ask the Home Secretary for a lesser sentence, they should not "go into the question of the innocence or guilt of Williams." At a later meeting, tempers frayed as the mayor accused Alderman Norton of calling him a liar, and telling him he smiled "like a hyena". Norton retorted back, and the mayor had to remove himself from the meeting temporarily to calm his temper.

It was a year after the conviction that the Home Secretary finally decided what to do with Williams: despite the sheer number of people lobbying for his release, the Home Secretary decided that there was no new evidence. Subsequent petitions would also fail. Williams would remain in prison to serve the majority of his sentence. He was finally released from Dover Prison in May 1890, a year early, due to his "exceptionally good" conduct while incarcerated.

I haven't been able to find Henry Williams after his release from prison. He would have been 48 years old on his release, still a relatively young man, his first class reputation in the police now superseded by being a convict. He was released to the care of the Royal Society for the Assistance of Discharged Prisoners; this society supplied clothing, housing and other help to former prisoners. In the public's eye, though, he was still an upstanding man, one who should not have gone to prison in the first place. While he was in prison, life continued as normal in Poole; and Stephen Hunt was still the police superintendent by the time Williams was released - one still, presumably, with a liking for a drop of whiskey in the evenings.